


You're Ridiculous

by Lionescence



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Sheith Positivity Week, Sheith Summer Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-06 09:50:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11598138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionescence/pseuds/Lionescence
Summary: Sheith Positivity Week 2017Day 1: Sky / SeaDay 2: Sun / StarsDay 3: Thunderstorm / Summer RainDay 4: Popsicles / FireworksDay 5: Swimming / HikingDay 6: Relaxation / RecreationDay 7: Free Day





	1. Sky / Sea

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Keith didn’t startle, gave very little indication at all that he’d heard Shiro approach him. He’d been learning to use his Galra senses, and even though they would never be quite as keen as they could be, his hearing was much sharper these days, and he could discern between familiar and unfamiliar sounds.

Shiro’s footsteps were echoes of his own heart, pauses between his own breaths. He knew them well even without the Galra hearing.

Keith leaned back on his forearms, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Can’t call it hiding when there’s nowhere for me to hide out here, Shiro,” he said, pointedly looking around him. The beach stretched for a few miles either side of them, a sandbar continuing a curve at one end into the sea. There were few trees, no rock formations. The planet’s golden moon lit the sand in a kind of candlelight, providing an illusion of warmth even though the breeze was cool.

“No. I suppose not,” the Black Paladin replied, and lowered himself into the sand next to him. “Were you out here all this time? You left the banquet hours ago.”

He shrugged in return. “I walked for a little bit, then found that path back there —” he tipped his head back to where Shiro had come from “— and figured, this was nice.” He looked back out into the sea, sparkling under the creamy moon, the sound of waves drowning everything else out. “I’ve, ah. I’ve never seen the sea before.”

“Never?” The incredulity in Shiro’s voice was startling and sharp. It tickled something in Keith: the man could deal with a half-alien boyfriend who pilots a sentient robot space lion, but can’t believe the same boyfriend had never seen a body of water larger than a swimming pool.

“No, Shiro,” he said, chuckling. “Where the hell would I have seen one? I grew up in a desert.”

He watched Shiro absorb that, wrinkle his nose, then turn his gaze to the gentle waters before them. Keith followed suit, and a comfortable, companionable silent fell between them, the stars in the sky their veil against any further intrusion.

It was different, admittedly: normally when they sat side-by-side like this, in the quiet, their heads would be tipped skyward, so they could count stars and trace constellations and watch for shooting stars or even the ISS passing overhead. In this moment, they both looked to a horizon ahead of them — the planet was small and its curvature much plainer to see. Where the sky was still and quiet, the sea rolled and waved, sang and sighed and caressed and Keith wondered what it would be like to float in that expanse in the same way he’d floated between the stars.

“When we get home,” Shiro said, gentle and sure, “I’ll take you to Okinawa. In the summer. We used to go every summer and Saeko and I would go snorkeling so we could see the fish and the corals. Before I left for the Garrison we’d both just got our scuba licences. I only got to go diving with her once. But you and I, we’ll go with snorkeling first. Get you comfortable with that, then we can get you a scuba license, too.”

Keith whipped his head away from the sea and stare blankly at Shiro. “What? Wait - what are you… _Okinawa? Diving?_ Shiro…”

But there was a smile on Shiro’s face, a smile Keith did not want to disappear just because he’s awkward and can’t understand when all Shiro was doing was being Shiro. “We’ll go to Tokashiki-son. It’s beautiful there, and the beaches are amazing. I snorkeled at Aharen Beach once. Met a sea turtle.”

The Red Paladin blinked, as if that would help make sense of beaches and sea turtles. He breathed, and smelled nothing but the sea air, and Shiro bore no evidence of having had one too many at the banquet. Maybe it was the sea. Maybe it was something familiar to Shiro. Or maybe there were fond memories associated with the sea. He thought it was just Lance, who might as well be part dolphin as far as he was concerned, but Shiro seemed quietly affected by the view in front of them.

It was a rather lovely sight. Keith almost wished it was home.

“You never — you’ve never talked about going home,” he said, picking through his words like a sandpiper through sand. “We’re so far away from Earth now, I don’t even know in which direction. And you’ve just… never.”

Shiro kept his smile, but shrugged. “That’s true.” He shifted then, opened an arm out to Keith so he could move in for a cuddle, and once he had him he curled the arm tight around his waist, and Keith couldn’t help but let his head fall against his broad shoulder. “But I think… I’ve not been very kind. To you, or to myself. I kept thinking I’d die, and I left you with a burden you didn’t deserve. And I need to stop that. I need to believe that we’ll go home someday. Together. I need to stop hurting you, hurting _us_ , and I need to give you reason to smile more.”

“I’m okay as long as you’re with me, Shiro,” he admitted, almost truthfully. Because the hurt was still there, lesser every day.

“Yeah, well. I want to make you more than okay. I want to make you _happy_.”

A kiss fell into the crown of his hair, and Keith snuggled a little further into him. He smiled, feeling a bubble of warmth burst inside his chest. He didn’t know how to tell Shiro he was already happy. “And you think sea turtles would make me happy?”

Shiro chuckled, low in his chest. Keith loved that sound more than anything in the world. More than the sea in front of him. More than all the oceans in the universe. “Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

Keith shook his head, his smile softening, his heart full. “You’re ridiculous.”

 

 

 


	2. Sun / Stars

Shiro watches Keith sleep, and tries not to mourn the scar on his shoulder. He wants to be grateful that Keith is otherwise unhurt, that all the other aches and pains have receded. He wants to be proud that against all odds and accusations, Keith was able to help forge an alliance with the Blade of Marmora. He wants to burst with all the love and joy and satisfaction his lover brought him that day.

He mourns all the same.

There used to be a small constellation of freckles on that shoulder, tiny discoloured stars against smooth pale skin. Shiro knew them well, as he knows every single freckle-star on Keith’s body. The seven on his left hip, that he always traces as a spiral with his thumb whenever his hand finds itself there, even through clothing. A line of four, the second slightly larger than the other three, on the inside of his forearm. Five dots so equally spaced they form a near-perfect pentagon on his lower back, and those Shiro loves to lick and kiss when he has him bent over a table, or on all fours on the bed, gasping and sighing his name.

But the three on his shoulder, the three that mirrored Orion, are gone now. Traded away for knowledge, bloodlines, alliances.

“…’kashi?”

Shiro pulls his hand back. He hadn’t realized he’d begun stroking that spot, as if he could make those little stars reappear from underneath the scar tissue. “I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Keith blinks, scrunches his nose and props himself up on one arm, allowing more of the sheets to fall away, revealing more skin. “Why’re you awake at all?”

Shiro doesn’t know what to say, only reaches up again to brush over the scar with his fingertips, feather-light, gentle, searching. Keith frowns, a little pout in the pale dark. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. Stop worrying.”

The older man sighs, shaking his head. “My favourite freckles are gone. My little Orion.”

Keith gapes for a moment, then smiles, then laughs, low and soft and teasing. “Oh my god. You’re ridiculous. Really? I’m half-alien, we’re in the middle of an intergalactic war, and you’re sad about _my freckles_.”

“They were my favourite,” Shiro insists, taking his turn to pout. “Now they’re gone.”

The Red Paladin shakes his head, takes his lover’s hand away from the scar and into his own, intertwining their fingers. “Nah. They’re not gone. They’re just… collapsed. They collapsed together and now they’ve made this… band, of a different-coloured light. A nebula. Just like stars do in the sky.”

That makes Shiro smile. “That’s rather romantic of you. I thought that was my job?”

“I’m half-asleep, Shiro. I stay stupid things when I’m half-asleep, you know this.”

He moves, and gathers the smaller man into his arms, keeping him close without enveloping him. Keith lays his head back down, keeps his gaze level, makes a calm, quiet sound when he feels Shiro drag his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair.

And Shiro realizes that Keith is right. That stars are never just gone. Even now, in the dark, he can see dozens of them in the light of his violet eyes. He can almost imagine whole galaxies swirling within them, like the night sky over a desert where no other light existed but the ones above them. Those eyes hold all the stars he’ll ever need, and there is nowhere the Castle of Lions could take them that would rival those eyes.

He tucks Keith’s head against his shoulder, kissing his forehead. “Sleep then. My North Star.”

There is a murmur, a hum, and then, sleep.

 

 

 


	3. Thunderstorms / Summer Rain

It took some time to explain the phenomenon to the Alteans. Rain, to them, was not water, certainly not wet, and cool. They didn’t even really call it ‘rain’, as such. And rain definitely did not come with wild winds, flashes of light, loud peals and rolls of thunder that shook the Castle walls.

But this planet apparently had a spate of humidity before they arrived, so high and stifling that it was really only a matter of time before the coastal area they’d landed in would whip up into the closest thing to an Earth tropical thunderstorm. Hunk, who’d spent much of his life on the islands, took one sniff of the air and said, “Yup. We’ve got incoming.”

It was impressive. The sky darkened almost to night when the deep clouds rolled in, everything bent slightly sideways to the wind, and the first flash of lightning was so bright the mice had all dived into Allura’s dress, making her squeal. When thunder exploded around them, Coran held on to the nearest piece of furniture, as if preparing for impact. Then sheets upon sheets of rain, loud and incessant, each drop the size of a large coin, pounded the earth and pummelled the Castle walls.

It went on for hours.

Shiro had passed by Hunk explaining to Coran how weather worked back on Earth, the Altean always curious about their lives back home. Pidge was in a grump because with all the lightning flashing around, Hunk had disallowed her from working on anything electrical. She was probably in the library, trying to amuse herself. Lance had wanted to be left alone, homesickness hitting him hard, but Shiro had spied on the Blue Paladin and Allura on the observation deck, talking quietly.

He knew where to find Keith. But first: kitchen.

He was unsurprised to find Keith’s favourite mug missing, a scattering of spilt tea leaves on the counter. He took down his own mug, fixed himself a similar drink, and went to where he knew Keith would be.

There was a window seat that he favoured, somewhere deep and high in the Castle. Keith always made concerted efforts when it came to claiming a space, somewhere quiet for himself. Only one person was ever allowed into those spaces.

And Shiro paused at the sight: lightning highlighting the figure nestled in the seat, back against the wall. He’d brought a blanket, draped over his knees, his boots abandoned on the floor. He could still see steam rising from the mug on the windowsill, just past the tablet in his lap. Fat drops of rain smacked against the window and left sparkling streaks as they slid down, fragmenting the light into liquid stars.

He almost hated that he wanted to interrupt such a peaceful picture amidst the violent storm outside. But then, that was Keith. Keith had always been calmest during such storms, as if he could bleed out all his uncertainty, his rage, his disquiet, up into the sky and let the storm claim it all and leave him in peace. Back at the Garrison everyone else would be on edge during the desert storms that hit the base, but not Keith. Keith would find the highest point, the biggest window, and almost curl up into the chaos.

“Hey.”

Keith looked up from his tablet, puzzled at first, but then relaxed into a smile. “Hey yourself.”

“Is this a private viewing, or can anyone join in?”

A different smile: one corner curved up into a smirk, sharp like the dagger forever lodged in Shiro’s heart. “I’m willing to extend a VIP pass.”

Securing his mug in his hand, Shiro bent at the waist, his free hand sweeping in an arc. “For that, I thank you.”

Keith shook his head, rolled his eyes. “Get over here, you big dork, before I revoke your pass and call security.”

“Who, the mice?”

“Hah!” Keith laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that made Shiro want to kiss them. “If they’ve worked their way out of Allura’s cleavage, sure. I was just planning on throwing my boots at you.”

“Rude,” he returned, but made his way over anyway, kicked off his boots while Keith to shuffled forwards in his seat so that he could settle behind him and put his back against the wall, giving Keith a warm chest to rest against. He stretched his legs out, let the smaller Paladin arrange himself between them, and folded an arm over his waist. Shiro placed his mug next to Keith’s and gave in to his earlier urge, kissing the corner of Keith’s eye, nuzzling his temple as he went. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Keith rearranged the blanket over their legs, wriggled a little to make himself comfortable, then retrieved his tablet. “And you’re ridiculous.” He tapped it and continued where he left off, leaving Shiro content with a lapful of warm Paladin, leaning one shoulder against the cool glass that showcased the thunderstorm outside. It wasn’t easing up in the slightest, which meant that they would not be able to further explore the planet until the following day, if not later. And maybe that was all right. It would be nice to be still, even for a day, especially if being still was like this.

“Read to me?”

Keith tipped his head up — just as another flash of lightning haloed him, the thunder echoing the depths of how much Shiro loved this man — and accepted a small kiss to his nose. His eyes crinkled again, and he turned back to his tablet and began to read aloud.

 

 

 


	4. Popsicles / Fireworks

Shiro jogged back to where he’d left Keith, on a bench under the shade, careful to not drop what he carried. Just as he slowed down Keith looked up, wide-eyed at first then with that resigned sigh he seemed to reserve only for him.

“Shiro, I need ice for my ankle. Popsicles aren’t gonna cut it.”

“Relax, baby,” Shiro said, pulling a zip-lock bag packed tight with ice from his other hand. “The girl running the ice-cream van was more than happy to oblige. Gave us these as well, said she hopes you feel better.” He gave Keith the two popsicles to hold, while he rearranged Keith on the bench, laying his legs out along it before tucking the ice pack between his swelling ankle and the back of the bench. “There you go. We’ll keep it there and see how it goes, hmm?”

He sat down, letting Keith lean back against his side. “So which one do you want? One’s strawberry, the other’s lime”

Keith huffed, though not unhappily. “That’s a stupid question,” he replied, and gave Shiro the bright green popsicle, keeping the red one for himself. Shiro laughed, short and low, before running his tongue over the cold treat, sucking up any droplets that tried to escape down his hand. He heard Keith do the same, and wished he could see it.

Shiro, sort of, had a _thing_ for the way Keith dealt with popsicles.

From the soft slurping noises he could hear, he knew Keith was drinking up all the juice from a spot on the popsicle. He’d work his way around, until the popsicle still had a coloured middle but a halo of clear ice where there was no longer any flavour.

Then he’d do the unthinkable and _bite_ into the ice. And he’d methodically start the process again, circling his way around until there was nothing left.

It was cute. He wouldn’t tell it to his face, though.

“So, free popsicles, huh?”

Shiro shook himself out of his musings with a dull, “Huh?”

“Free popsicles?” Keith said, a teasing note to his voice. “What did you do, bat those pretty eyelashes at her? Was she cute?”

Shiro shrugged at that, sucking up the last of his popsicle, and began chewing on the stick. “Kinda. Maybe? Probably Lance’s type.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look, all I did was say, _‘My boyfriend’s sprained his ankle, would you be able to spare any ice, please, I’ll pay for it’_ , and she handed me the bag of ice and two popsicles, okay?”

“And one of them happened to be strawberry?”

Heat crawled up his cheeks then, knowing he’d been found out. Keith was far too clever for his own good, sometimes, or at least, knew him far too well. “Well. I, uh. Maybe mentioned it was your favourite flavour.”

Keith’s smile grew deadly, sensing a kill. “Oh did you now?”

“She _asked_!” Shiro’s voice cracked on the last syllable. Keith started laughing then, bright enough to be a touch cruel, and Shiro couldn’t fight back his own grin, shoving Keith gently between the shoulder.

“Hey, no picking on the infirm!”

Shiro let his smile broaden, because now he had him at his mercy. One of them had a sprained ankle, and it wasn’t him. “Well, I think it’s time I pick _up_ the infirm, though,” he said, feeling rather superior.

Keith blinked, smile falling straightaway. “You what? What are you talking about?”

Shiro stood then, slowly, so Keith wouldn’t overbalance off him, and went to check on the ice pack. It was half-melted now, Keith’s sock soaked through and cold, but the swelling hadn’t gone down as much as he’d like. Certainly not enough to allow his beloved to walk on it. “Well. The car is way back over there, and you’re not walking.”

“Oh no,” Keith growled, eyes narrowed in threat. “No. Don’t you _fucking_ dare. You absolutely ridiculous man, _I can walk_ , I can —”

 

 

 

The girl in the ice-cream van laughed, absolutely delighted, when the beautiful muscled man from earlier strode past, piggybacking a smaller, equally pretty man, the presumed boyfriend. And she declared her day made when the pretty one leaned in, still pouting somewhat from his perch though his eyes smiled, dropped ten dollars on her counter, and said, “Thanks for the popsicles.”

 

 

 


	5. Swimming / Hiking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little late, but don't worry: Chapter 6 will actually be Day 7: Free Day, as Day 6 grew into its own beast and I wanted it to have its own place. I'll be finishing it up hopefully in the next few days. 
> 
> I promise, it'll be worth it, and Day 7, is... well. You'll see.

Shiro was beginning to regret this.

When he chatted up the cute guy he kept bumping into after his morning run at the coffee shop, he thought he was finally getting himself back in the game. Not just socially, but also in getting his old fitness back from his military days, because the cute guy — Keith — ran every damned morning, and apparently again every evening. They’d finally got to the point where they’d meet in the mornings at the coffee shop and run together, before enjoying their morning cup and pastry in each other’s company. The company grew easier and easier for Shiro, and two weeks into the arrangement he had a number and a date that wasn’t a morning run.

A date that started the night before, in fact. In Keith’s flat. Where he’d brought a bag with a change of clothes and Keith had tidied and kitted out the sofa with pillows and blankets. And that was when he spotted his mistake, that brought him to this moment.

On one small wall in the hallway hung several medals and certificates, flanked by photographs of Keith and a beautiful woman with long silvery hair. Every single one of those photographs were outdoors, somewhere wild, somewhere high. Marathons weren’t run on high ground, were they? A closer look at some of the awards and there it was.

Keith wasn’t just a trail runner: he was a _skyrunner_. High altitude, high pace runs across rugged terrain, taking place all over the world. There were awards from different race groups, across different continents. Shiro checked one of the certificates and it claimed a 36-kilometre run in under 6 hours. With an elevation gain of 2400 metres.

“That was in Spain,” he’d said, when he’d caught Shiro peering too hard at the script. “Allura and I were lucky to get into the race. It’s kind of a lottery. I didn’t get into any this year though since I kinda wrecked myself on Biwako Valley in Japan last year.”

“You do one every year?” From the looks of the routes — framed next to the achievement records— once would have been enough for him.

Keith had shrugged. “It’s a thing. Allura got me into it when I told her I was getting tired of triathlons. She’d been doing these for years.”

Shiro remembered swallowing hard, wondering what the hell he’d got himself into. “O-oh? And what was so bad about triathlons?”

“I got bored.”

 _Shit_.

And now here he was, being led up a trail that was pretty even if not somewhat vertical — he thanked all the deities he could name that it wasn’t anything like the 2400 metre gain in Keith’s races — that had more scrambles than he was honestly comfortable with. They wore light packs, though Shiro was dressed more for an old-school hike, while Keith might as well have worn nothing and gone barefoot, his technical gear so light and perfectly designed for the task. Where Shiro’s heavy walking boots scraped and pushed against the ground, Keith’s ultralight trainers barely shifted a stone and seemed to lift him. Did those things have wings? Did Keith steal them from Hermes?

Gods, he was trying so hard to not regret this.

“How much farther have we got to go?” He hoped it didn’t sound too much like a whine.

“Almost there!” Keith called back. “Sun’s just about at the right place for it,” he said, which didn’t really explain anything.

Shiro looked up to ask what he meant, and the question died in his throat when he saw Keith’s beaming smile and shining black hair kissed by morning light that made the sheen of sweat on his skin absolutely glow. It made him ethereal. Maybe he ran in the sky because he came from it. Maybe he was taking him to somewhere only unearthly sky beings went.

No, he couldn’t regret this. Not that smile.

Keith hadn’t lied: it really was only another ten or so minutes before they came to a piece of perfectly level ground, backed by a bank that led higher up the rest of the trail. Shiro wondered briefly why they’d stopped here, when there was the rest of the trail ahead, until he turned to where Keith was pointing. “Here.”

They were high above the city, the ground beneath their feet falling away into a steep grey-green slope before gentling near the bottom. It was mid-morning, so the sun was still not quite high enough to light everything, but enough to cast a radiance that made the world seem more subdued yet all the more alive. Shiro was certain he’d never seen anything quite so beautiful.

Keith was already dusting down a nearby set of large rocks, large enough to serve as seats, and pulling out his thermos and bento lunchbox. Shiro moved to do the same, but found himself caught again, by the way the morning light lit Keith’s face, highlighted his features. That the smaller man was unaware that he was being observed made him all the more beautiful. Perhaps more so than the scene he’d just been presented.

He must have been wearing an odd expression, because he snapped to when Keith said, “What?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you looking at?” Keith asked before taking a bite of his bagel. He’d crammed it with peanut butter and banana and Shiro wasn’t sure how the snack never glued his mouth shut altogether.

But then, it was just another endearing thing about Keith. Shiro let his smile widen, and said, “You. Just you.”

Keith rolled his eyes, though a corner of his mouth ticked upwards. “Ridiculous. For someone who complained a lot of the way up here, you seem pretty happy to stay standing.”

“Not all of us are part mountain goat,” he said, sitting down beside him.

Licking peanut butter off his fingers, Keith snorted. “Yeah. Some of us are part nanny goat.”

“Are you calling me old?” Shiro asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nah. You just sound like one. _Mehh-mehh-mehh_.”

Shiro hummed in thought, snatched Keith’s half-bagel out of his hand, and shoved him off his rock.

 

 

 


	6. Free Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with Day 7!
> 
> And yes: it is a scene from a future point in [When You Rise](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9141022/chapters/20768845). 
> 
> This has been a great event to be a part of, I had lots of fun. Hopefully I'll have Day 6's fic up as its own separate entity soon, but until then, everyone enjoy VLD S3!

It was days like these, new as they were, that Shiro was glad he was much stronger, much broader than he’d been before Kerberos. He had no idea how he’d hold on to twins otherwise, even with Hotaru strapped securely in a sling at his hip, dozing peacefully, leaving his hands free to deal with a much fussier Amaya.

It was days like these he was thankful for all the trials he’d gone through, from Kerberos to the gladiatorial arena, to the entire war against Zarkon and the mess they had to clean up afterwards, because without them, he wasn’t sure he could cope with a wailing infant who couldn’t tell him why she was wailing, and who was on the verge of waking her sister if she wasn’t careful. And she couldn’t be careful, because she was a _baby_.

Shiro paced the room again, swaying his hips to rock both Hotaru in her sling, and Amaya in his arms. “Shhh, Amaya, _please_ ,” he murmured, a tender hush, trying his best to hide his frustration. “Sweetheart, I wish I knew what you wanted.”

“Give her to me.”

He almost dropped his daughter at the sound of Keith’s voice, eyes snapping up to where he was slowly walking into the room towards his bundle of family. He was wearing a loose, floor-length robe, the symbol of the Altean royal family emblazoned on one sleeve with ties by his waist so he could undo the top as he needed. The deep plum of the fabric echoed the colour of his eyes, while the gold edges called back to his former name and his markings. He was almost fully back to his more masculine appearance, save for the soft swell of his chest so he could nurse his daughters. But he was still exhausted and sore, and his shifting had yet to settle even two months on.

If Shiro was rendered stock still for a moment, he could blame it entirely how beautiful his husband was.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” he asked. He couldn’t help the furrow in his brow, or the concern in his frown. “You should be resting.”

Keith shook his head, and reached for Amaya, Shiro surrendering her immediately. “Can’t rest when I can feel her crying.” He curled his daughter close to his chest, one hand under her bottom, the other passing up and down her back. When she didn’t quiet any more than when she’d been in Shiro’s arms, he sighed, and closed his eyes.

“Oh, no, don’t —”

His gold Altean markings flashed into being upon his cheekbones, and he let out a soft grunt, wincing briefly before his features smoothed out again and his markings faded away, leaving only clear pale skin. Moments later, he took a deep breath and began to purr, low and deep in his chest.

Shiro ran a hand through his hair, his frustration now elsewhere. “You have to stop doing that, Keith.”

Keith only shrugged. “It’s whatever works,” he said, far too unconcerned for Shiro’s liking. But he was right: Amaya’s cries softened to squeaky whimpers and she seemed to turn her head further into her father’s chest, trying to get closer to the comforting rumble within. Keith moved around the room, still purring deeply until he reached the large sofa in the nursery, lowering himself carefully into the cushions. Shiro followed, pulling Hotaru out of her sling and settling her in the cradle of his Galran arm, and sat down next to Keith.

Amaya was finally blinking her grey eyes sleepily, face pressing into the hand that gently wiped her tears from her reddened cheeks. One last trembly whine, and she was asleep, face still a grumpy scrunch.

In Shiro’s arm, Hotaru hiccuped, burped herself awake, deep purple eyes wide open for a surprised second, before yawning and falling back asleep. It happened so quickly and so comically that Shiro couldn’t help but laugh. “Who knew the one who looks like you would be the chilled out one?”

When Keith didn’t answer, he looked over, to find his husband dozing, chin nearly tipped against his chest. Shiro moved his free arm around, pulling Keith close so he could rest his head against his shoulder, all the while making sure neither Amaya nor Hotaru were disturbed. Keith was no longer purring, but his expression was pinched in pain: he must have just shifted out of what Lance affectionately called ‘Galra Cat Mom’ mode.

Although…

The years fighting the war, the last stand, had all taken a massive toll on Keith. Once he learned he was half Galran, half Altean, he sought to learn everything he could to give himself and Team Voltron any advantage available, considering he had no one to teach him to use or control his abilities, and his learning came almost too late in his life to be useful. He’d only held his ground through sheer tenacity, and that often cost him. Shifting had not come naturally to him, opening wormholes nearly killed him, adapting between ferocious first melee striker and powerful rear support and defence taxed him.

The loss of their first unborn child rendered him almost unable to shift, unable to put his body back together.

Sometimes, Shiro still wondered if he ever did.

The war had broken them both, but they always mended back together again, precious metals filling cracks in ceramic. The birth of their daughters had been difficult, but it was the final brush of lacquer that would seal their new future, setting it strong and gleaming.

Allura had told Shiro that Keith would likely never carry again, never again shift to fully female to accommodate it. She’d felt that part of his shifting power die even as they wrapped Amaya in her swaddling cloths and Hotaru came sliding out with a proud cry.

That had been painful news to take in. Keith had yet to talk about it. But to Shiro, it no longer mattered. Keith was alive, his daughters were alive, they were a family. _Keith_ had a family of his own, at last, of his own blood. And perhaps that sometimes made Keith irrational; two months in and he was already sacrificing more than he should for his daughters, slowing his own recovery just so he could tend to and comfort them. He _shouldn’t_ be using his heightened Galra senses. He _shouldn’t_ be using his Altean shifting abilities to be Galran enough to purr just to send a baby to sleep.

But that was Keith. Shiro knew, if Keith could tear through half a universe just to find his beloved again, he would do the same — if not more — for his daughters.

Now, it was up to Shiro. It was up to him to protect Keith while Keith protected his daughters. While Keith showered them with all the love and affection he lacked as a child, Shiro would love Keith infinitely more, infinitely deeper, so that that well of love would never run dry. Keith would destroy worlds for them; Shiro would rebuild them. Shiro never believed there would be peace for him, a forever to safeguard and cherish, but they were here now, in his arms, all three of them.

The chamber door creaked open, and Allura popped her head in, her initial look of worry slowly dissolving into quiet relief.

“Oh thank goodness,” she said, stepping into the room. “He wasn’t in your rooms.”

Shiro nodded, a resigned smile on his face. “I don’t think anything was going to keep him away. Amaya wouldn’t settle. I worry she might be a little colicky.”

Allura hummed thoughtfully as she knelt in front of Keith, running a gentle hand over Amaya’s dark hair. “We can take her for a check-up, it shouldn’t be a —”

She was interrupted by a low, feral growl, and her eyebrows rose when she realized it came from Keith.

Shiro, too, wore a shocked, but sheepish expression. But in the end, he chuckled, shaking his head fondly at his husband. “I, ah. Think you’d better wait until he’s awake.”

The Queen of Altea rolled her eyes, sighed, and stood once more. “Ridiculous. _Both of you_ , honestly.”

The former Black Paladin, Consort to the Crown Prince, only smiled.

“Yeah. I hear that a lot.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hotaru = firefly, Amaya = night rain


End file.
